Back in Dar, one of the main items on my to-do list is to
sort out the dogs vs. cats issue around our house. This might be the first time
ever that I have had cats and dogs simultaneously, so this is new to me.
For now, things are not working.
The cats rule inside, the dogs rule outside. The dogs themselves are Tanzanian dogs and have been here all of their lives. It seems these dogs are passed on to another house the moment whichever expat leaves the country. These dogs have never dealt with cats, and it shows. There is too much African (Tanzanian) wild dog in them right now. The dogs will go after any animal (and person) that is unwelcome on the property. A dog has 200 times (that number is right—two hundred) the capacity of human beings to smell, which doesn't bode well for any intruder. I saw a four foot snake lose itself on the property and eventually scurry to safety over a wall once the dogs sniffed it out.
The cats, of course, take care of the intruders inside. Cockroaches, mice, lizards…any of these critters is living on borrowed time in our house with the presence of a cat. They, too, are not accustomed to sharing their territory with dogs. For now, there is a lot of shadow boxing between the cats and dogs. The dogs will howl at the kitties through the window, the cats will paw back and puff up their tales, but in the end no harm, no foul.
Of course, the kitties need to roam as well, especially at night. Enter the dog trainer, our Secretary of State, that we hired for the purpose of bringing peace to our house. The dog trainer operates methodically. Although I have never known a dog trainer personally, I have seen what work they do and am impressed by it. The dog trainer, Benjamin, is introduced to the cats and the dogs, and he starts the training regimen shortly thereafter.
After a few weeks, Benjamin explains how far he has advanced. The dogs are eating—quite literally—out of the palm of his hand, result of the edible rewards he dispenses for good behavior. It is now time to advance to the next stage, which is to have the acts and dogs confront each other. For beginners, the cat remains in a cage. Benjamin takes the dogs by the leash, passes the cat in the cage, and issues a short but curt 'Psst' whenever the dogs are inclined to sniff out the cat. So far, so good.
Next, it is time to take the cat out of the cage. This happens a week later. George tells us to tie the kitty to a tree in the middle of the yard. The string is tied to the cat's foot, which is very suspect. Not a good idea, I'm thinking, but maybe Benjamin knows something I don't.
Liebi leaves too much slack on the string for the kitty, and we pay for it dearly. Here comes the dog trainer with both dogs on the leash, the kitty's more basic instincts take over, and she escapes up a tree—not a problem, given that the cat has all of the string in the world to work with. She finally does run out of string when she decides to jump over a branch. Poor choice. This means that the cat is now dangling from a tree like a piñata ready to be smashed to bits. Somehow we do untangle her and get her back into the house, pronto. Even so, the dog trainer fails miserably.
Details, details. Peace for the holidays will not come easily and is a few more weeks down the road, I figure.
In the meantime, we'll need to keep the door shut at all times. And the dog trainer away from us. He wasn't worth his weight in dog meat.
The cats rule inside, the dogs rule outside. The dogs themselves are Tanzanian dogs and have been here all of their lives. It seems these dogs are passed on to another house the moment whichever expat leaves the country. These dogs have never dealt with cats, and it shows. There is too much African (Tanzanian) wild dog in them right now. The dogs will go after any animal (and person) that is unwelcome on the property. A dog has 200 times (that number is right—two hundred) the capacity of human beings to smell, which doesn't bode well for any intruder. I saw a four foot snake lose itself on the property and eventually scurry to safety over a wall once the dogs sniffed it out.
The cats, of course, take care of the intruders inside. Cockroaches, mice, lizards…any of these critters is living on borrowed time in our house with the presence of a cat. They, too, are not accustomed to sharing their territory with dogs. For now, there is a lot of shadow boxing between the cats and dogs. The dogs will howl at the kitties through the window, the cats will paw back and puff up their tales, but in the end no harm, no foul.
Of course, the kitties need to roam as well, especially at night. Enter the dog trainer, our Secretary of State, that we hired for the purpose of bringing peace to our house. The dog trainer operates methodically. Although I have never known a dog trainer personally, I have seen what work they do and am impressed by it. The dog trainer, Benjamin, is introduced to the cats and the dogs, and he starts the training regimen shortly thereafter.
After a few weeks, Benjamin explains how far he has advanced. The dogs are eating—quite literally—out of the palm of his hand, result of the edible rewards he dispenses for good behavior. It is now time to advance to the next stage, which is to have the acts and dogs confront each other. For beginners, the cat remains in a cage. Benjamin takes the dogs by the leash, passes the cat in the cage, and issues a short but curt 'Psst' whenever the dogs are inclined to sniff out the cat. So far, so good.
Next, it is time to take the cat out of the cage. This happens a week later. George tells us to tie the kitty to a tree in the middle of the yard. The string is tied to the cat's foot, which is very suspect. Not a good idea, I'm thinking, but maybe Benjamin knows something I don't.
Liebi leaves too much slack on the string for the kitty, and we pay for it dearly. Here comes the dog trainer with both dogs on the leash, the kitty's more basic instincts take over, and she escapes up a tree—not a problem, given that the cat has all of the string in the world to work with. She finally does run out of string when she decides to jump over a branch. Poor choice. This means that the cat is now dangling from a tree like a piñata ready to be smashed to bits. Somehow we do untangle her and get her back into the house, pronto. Even so, the dog trainer fails miserably.
Details, details. Peace for the holidays will not come easily and is a few more weeks down the road, I figure.
In the meantime, we'll need to keep the door shut at all times. And the dog trainer away from us. He wasn't worth his weight in dog meat.
